The Edge of Nothing
by marysverse
Summary: Its one race against another.  The resistance is barely standing.  Totally AU.  One-shot.


A/N: Totally and unapologetically AU!

**The Edge of Nothing**

When they say a battlefield is chaos, they don't know what they are talking about. From the surface maybe things look like jumbled flashes and falling bodies but there was an order to it. She saw more entropy in the dance than anything else. Two paces and slash, burst of speed to catch up to the knot of partners grappling each other. Run for cover as the present you leave behind shudders the earth, spraying dirt like rain. This was what battle was about, heart pumping in your ears as you let everything fall aside except one purpose, to be the last one left to take a bow.

_I guess you really did it this time_

_Left yourself in your warpath_

_Lost your balance on your tightrope_

_Lost your mind trying to get it back_

_Wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days_

_Always a bigger bed to crawl into_

_Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything_

_Everybody believed in you_

The weapon flashing its harmless silver makes their lips twist into a cruel smile at the silly human bringing an earth metal to the fight. The shock in the eyes as it slices clean through them is satisfying. Eyes to the sky she sees him, engaging from the sky to protect a people not his own. Their gazes interlock for just a nanosecond of time, the ruin reflecting back at each other. But they return to the dance at hand. There are no nifty communicators letting her know who's left, no tech, just an all out rally to the end. Whatever the outcome may be.

She sees Queen go down, but does not run to him. She cannot be distracted. That's how they keep winning, hitting her where it hurts. Lois had been the first, and she had been so busy hating Superman and hating Justice for not saving her, that they managed to slip through all their precautions and plans and keep adding to the body count. They were foolish for ever thinking they could be contained.

_Did some things you can't speak of_

_But at night you live it all again_

_You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now_

_If only you had seen what you know now then_

They retreat for reasons she doesn't understand. They have the power, they have the numbers, to finish it would be easy. Unless there are having too much fun toying with the measly human resistance. But retreat they do, and she is once again surprised to find herself back in the refuge, alive and in one piece. She looks at the wall, she had started it in the beginning but had stopped caring enough to continue it. Others kept up with it and the wall crowded with mementos. Somewhere up there was Lois' fierce smile, a bright yellow canary for Dinah that Queen would touch everyday before battle, a green circuit board taken from Victor's fatally fried hardware. She watched as someone slid a green arrow in between a teddy bear and a straw hat in the collage of memories. She would love nothing more than to burn the hateful reminder down. Turning away, she walked past the rows of cots, seeking solitude in the crowded cavern.

_Wasn't it easier in your firefly catching days_

_When everything out of reach someone bigger brought down to you_

_Wasn't it beautiful running wild til you fell asleep_

_Until the monsters caught up to you_

She finds a dark crevice, far enough away that the din of a nation is muffled. She itches from dirt and sweat and sits uncomfortably on the ground. They rotated out showers to conserve water so that everyone got a chance to wash once a week, not willing to risk a serious disease to do the alien's work for them. She was on day five and her stink was barely tolerable. The great race of humans, returning to their cave dwelling roots and wallowing in their own stink. She chuckled out loud, the sound foreign and choking in her throat.

A breeze had her whipping around, coming face to face with him. A steaming tub of water is next to him; he must have supersped it in to get past the masses with it. They had not had any personal communication since the day she had told him she hated him, the day she told him he had killed Lois Lane. Turning her back to him, she sits back down, wanting no part of whatever he is offering. What difference would a peace offering be between them? There was no point to any of it.

He strides to her, easily gripping her by the waist and standing her up. She refuses to acknowledge him. He pulls off her worn leather vest and still she says nothing. He unbuttons her shorts, letting them fall off her frame. Picking her up, he puts her in the hot water with her feet sticking out. He works off the threadbare shoes and puts her legs in the water. She stares at the water, looking at how her legs splay like twigs under the surface. Pulling out a bit of soap and a rag, he starts to systematically scrub her down. There's no blushing as he works over intimate areas, no shying away or giggling as it should have been, he rubs her vigorously, leaving her spotless. He dunks her with no warning, working the grime caught in her hair. She passively accepts his cleaning, never looking at him.

_Its okay life is a tough crowd_

_Thirty-two, and still growing up now_

_You're still an innocent_

He sits back on his heels when he is done, staring at his hands while she stares into the now grayish bath water. There is just nothing to be said. She stands up as the chill gets to her and he stands with her. As she reaches for her clothes, he snatches them away. Finally she meets his gaze, trying to figure out his game. She reaches again, he throws them out of her reach. Glaring, she steps out of the tub, but he blocks her path. He kisses her. Her hand reaches up and slaps him, fisting the resulting painful sting of her palm. He grips painfully at her hips and pulls her against him, his lips finding hers again. Pulling away, she slaps him again. He pushes her against the sharp wall, the rocky surface digging into her naked back. He's ripping at his own clothes as he kisses her, not sweet like their first kiss, not surprised like their last kiss, it is a kiss that conveys raw need.

She's utterly confused when she finds herself no longer struggling against him, when her fingers thread themselves in his hair and her mouth is answering his need. They push and pull against each other, desperate to satisfy the animal inside them. There are no gentle caresses, no whispers of love, no cries of passion, as they silently take from each other. He rocks against her trying desperately to delay his urgency. But when she gasps silently against him and her body goes limp, he can't prevent himself from crashing with her. The relief was too brief.

_Time turns flames to embers_

_You'll have new Septembers_

_Every one of us has messed up too_

_Life changes like the weather _

_I hope you'll remember_

_Today is never too late to_

_Be brand new_

They collapse together on the floor. He reaches out to hold her and she smacks his hands away. He catches her darting eyes and holds his hand out to her. Her eyes storm like a Kansas tornado and he finally sees the break. A sob shudders through her and soon she is crying as she reaches for him. He tucks her in his arms; his own tears splashing down his face. She wraps herself around him, grinding her face against his chest, trying to pull back from the edge of hysteria. Eventually, fatigue takes her and Clark covers her with his body to keep the chill of her skin. He buries his face in her hair, a small hopeful smile tugging on his mouth.

_Its all right just wait and see your_

_String of lights are still bright to me oh_

_Who you are is not where you've been _

_You're still an innocent_


End file.
